


30,000 Feet

by Starrla89



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Sulking Sherlock, john is a great husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrla89/pseuds/Starrla89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock really just wants to get home, and of course John makes it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30,000 Feet

**Author's Note:**

> I fly quite a bit, and this was born mostly out of the frustration of trying to get seats together with your flying companion(s). I'm basically Sherlock, but alas, I have no John to make me feel better!

Sherlock was sulking. The plane was full, and he and John had not been able to get seats together. The best the airline could do was to give them seats one directly behind the other. Sherlock was in the front, John right behind him. To add insult to injury, they were both in the middle seat. 

Sherlock slouched down as far as he could. He stuck his long legs out in front of him – _thank God for the bulkhead row!_ – and pouted. Soon, this miserable trip would be over, and he could collapse into the comfort of Baker Street. He was so caught up in his misery that he missed the tap on his shoulder.

“Sherlock, are you OK?”

“John, this is _awful_. Why is it so difficult to get seats together?”

“At least we’re both adults,” he said, looking over in sympathy at a mother and her two young children scattered over four rows.

“I don’t care. This is awful, and I just want to go _home_.”

“Me too, love. Soon.” 

He sat back and picked up the magazine from the seat pocket. A movement fluttered at the corner of his eye, and he looked up. He smiled fondly at the hand hanging over the back of the seat in front of him. Without a word, he curled his fingers around Sherlock’s, and gave a gentle squeeze. Sherlock squeezed back, much harder. _I hate this. I want you up here with me. I want to go home._

John heard all that and more. Releasing Sherlock’s hand, John unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward. “We’re almost there, love. Hold on just a bit longer.” Sherlock turned his head, all his misery plain. John couldn’t resist – he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Sherlock’s, ignoring the glares from his fellow passengers. He felt Sherlock’s entire body relax, from the lips down. He pulled back and smiled as Sherlock stared into his eyes for just a second, before facing front again.

John sat back down and re-buckled his belt. Just as he picked up the magazine once more, Sherlock’s hand appeared over the back of his seat again. John wrapped his fingers around Sherlock’s and this time, Sherlock squeezed back gently. John leaned forward just a bit to kiss those precious fingers, and felt one more soft squeeze. They settled in for the rest of the flight, hands joined, towards Baker Street, towards home.


End file.
